Switched (10 page)

This is going to be a long wait, I told myself with a silent sigh. But it will be worth it if I can find Margie and force her to tell me about Lucy.

I carefully lowered myself to a sitting position on the closet floor. My hand fell over the clump of dust. I brushed it away.

I knew that no one would open the closet door and discover me. There was no reason for anyone to go into this closet.

Locker doors slammed. The room became quieter as girls headed out to the gym. I could hear the thump of basketballs. I heard Miss Hawkins' whistle blow.

Leaning back against the closet wall, I shut my eyes and let myself be swallowed up by the darkness. It was already starting to get hot and sticky inside the closet. But I didn't dare step out. There were always girls coming in and out of the locker room once the day started.

I can make it till fourth period, I assured myself.

I decided the wait would give me some quiet time to think. To think about Lucy and why she murdered the three people she cared about most. To try to figure out why she hated me so much, why she left me to take the blame.

The hours passed. Girls changed and played basketball, then changed again to go to their next class.

But I didn't think of any answers. It was as if the answers hovered just beyond my reach, just beyond a thick wall of fog. And no matter how I struggled, I couldn't clear away the fog.

When the fourth-period bell finally rang, I shook away my confused thoughts and climbed to my feet. Alert to every sound, I listened to the girls' voices as they piled into the locker room, voices I knew so well.

I could hear Margie kidding around with two other girls. So near. She was so near, I knew I could push open the closet door, reach out, and grab her.

But I waited. Margie was always one of the last to change, always one of the last to leave the locker room. I hoped she would linger behind today. I hoped I could confront her without a dozen other girls in the way.

I pressed both hands against the door, preparing to spring out. I listened hard. I had to catch her before she ran out to the gym.

My heart started to pound. The voices all blended together in my ears. I tried to shut them all out, all except Margie's.

A shrill cry made my heart jump.

I heard other frightened cries. Shuffling noises. Loud shouts. The thud of running feet.

What has happened? I wondered.

What is all the commotion?

I pushed open the closet door and plunged out into the locker room.

I saw a cluster of girls in their gym shorts and T-shirts. Their faces were tight with fear.

They were gaping down at a girl on the floor. A girl sprawled on her back on the locker room floor.

“Margie?” I cried.

Yes. It was Margie.

I
pushed into the circle of girls. No one seemed to notice me. They all stared down at Margie.

Margie raised herself high enough to grab her left calf. Her face twisted in pain. “Oh, wow!” she cried. “These leg cramps are the
worst!”

“You just don't want to play today,” another girl joked. “You don't want to get sweaty because it's class photo day.”

Everyone laughed. Tense laughter.

“You really scared me when you screamed like that,” someone told Margie.

“I frightened
myself,”
Margie groaned, rubbing the calf. “It's starting to feel a little better.”

I took a step back, then another.

No one had noticed me yet. They all leaned over Margie. Two girls helped her to her feet. Margie hobbled to a low wooden bench and sat down.

I slipped back behind the closet door.

I heard Miss Hawkins's whistle blow out in the gym.

“Go ahead,” Margie told the others. “I'm okay. I'll be out in a second.”

This is a lucky break for me, I thought. About time I had a lucky break.

I waited for the others to leave. Then I stepped out quickly. “Hi, Margie.”

Bent over, rubbing her leg, she sat up with a start. “Nicole—!” Her face filled with surprise. “You're here?”

I moved in front of her, ready to stop her if she tried to run. I pressed my hands against my waist. “Where's Lucy?” I demanded. My voice came out in a choked whisper.

“Huh?” Margie pretended she didn't hear me.

“I need to find Lucy,” I said through gritted teeth. “I'm not kidding around, Margie. You know where Lucy is, and I need to find out. I have to get her to switch bodies back.”

Margie raised herself to her feet. She winced in pain. I guessed her leg muscle was still cramped.

“Nicole—sit down,” she said softly. She pointed to the bench. I couldn't read her expression. Was it fear? Was she thinking frantically? Trying to think of how to stall me, how to keep me from finding Lucy?

“I don't want to sit down,” I said coldly. “I want to
find Lucy. Right away. I want to get out of her body, Margie. And you're going to help me.”

Margie bit her lower lip. Her dark eyes locked on to mine. I could see her studying me, trying to decide just how serious I was.

I needed her help so badly. I felt so desperate, so angry and frightened and desperate, all at the same time. Suddenly the words just came bursting out of me.

“Margie, she took me into the woods,” I said, squeezing Margie's bare arm. “She took me to the Changing Wall. We switched bodies. She told you all this—right? She told you?”

Margie didn't reply. She continued to stare at me. I could see she was thinking hard.

“But she didn't tell you about the murders,” I continued, holding on to her arm. “She didn't tell you she killed her parents and she killed Kent. That's why I have to get my body back. Do you understand? Do you understand why you have to help me?”

I saw her swallow hard. She gently removed her arm from my grasp. “Changing Wall?” she murmured.

“I'll take you there,” I told her. “I'll show you. I'll show you where we switched. But then—”

Her eyes narrowed. “Nicole, if I go with you, will you make me a promise?” she asked, speaking softly and slowly, as if talking to a child.

“Promise?” I demanded suspiciously. I didn't trust her. She had already helped Lucy escape once. “What kind of promise?”

She rubbed the back of her calf. “If I go with you to the Changing Wall, will you come back here with me? Will you come back with me and sit tight until I get your parents?”

“No!” I answered quickly. “I can't see my parents until I have my body back. I have to know where Lucy is! You can't keep it from me any longer!”

Her mouth dropped open. But she didn't reply.

“Do you know where Lucy is?” I screamed, losing control. “Do you?”

“Y-yes,” she admitted. “But, Nicole—”

The locker room door swung open. I heard voices. Footsteps.

Uttering a low cry, I slipped back into the closet. I tried to pull the door closed only partway. But I pulled too hard and the door clicked shut.

The voices on the other side were muffled. I couldn't make out the words. I figured someone had come in to check on Margie and see if she was okay.

What bad timing, I thought bitterly, trying to calm my pounding heart. Margie had just confessed that she knew where Lucy was. She was about to tell me where I could find her.

I pressed against the door, listening hard.

Was Margie telling the intruder about me? Was she telling the other girl to go get Miss Hawkins? Was she planning to trap me in this closet, to keep me here and go get my parents?

No. Please!
I silently begged.
Please, Margie. Please don't betray me like Lucy did.

I pressed harder against the door, trying to hear what they were saying.

But the room was silent now.

Had the other girl left?

I clicked the closet door, pushed it open slowly, and peeked around it.

“No!”

I uttered a hoarse cry as I saw Margie. On her back on the floor again.

N
ot a leg cramp this time.

I saw the puddle of blood widening around her.

Saw that her head had been crushed in. Her skull cracked. Her cheek bashed in. One eye smashed shut.

Saw the shot put on the floor beside her. The blood-smeared shot put.

And I knew that Lucy had struck again.

Lucy had crept into the locker room and murdered Margie. Crushed her head with a shot put.

Crushed her. Crushed her and walked back out.

My entire body convulsed in a violent shudder. I forced myself to turn away from the gruesome sight.

Lucy, how could you?

The question burned into my mind.

How could you kill so coldly?

Miss Hawkins's shrill whistle on the other side of the locker room door snapped me from my horrifying thoughts. I raised my eyes to the door.

Someone is going to come in here, I realized. Someone is going to see me. Someone is going to find me standing here over Margie's battered body.

I spun around, fighting back my panic.

The locker room had two doors. One led to the gym. The other led out to the hall.

I had no choice. I turned and hurried out into the hall.

I stopped just outside the door and glanced both ways.

No one there.

I took a deep breath and started to run. I had to get out of the building without being seen.

I ran full speed. I practically flew.

I prayed that no one would come around the corner and recognize me.

Please, please—let me get away!

A few seconds later I hurtled through the back doors and ran across the student parking lot. I didn't stop running until I was two blocks from the school.

Then I collapsed on the tall grass in an empty lot, my sides aching, my temples throbbing. I sat with my mouth open, panting like a dog, sweat running down my cheeks.

Lucy is following me.

She's following me everywhere I go.

The thought broke into my mind. I felt a cold shiver run down my back.

Why hadn't I realized it before?

I visited Kent. And then she killed Kent.

I came to see Margie. And then she killed Margie.

Without realizing it, I jumped to my feet. I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, “Lucy—are you here?” My voice came out hoarse and breathless.

I received no answer.

“Lucy—can you see me? Are you watching me?” I screamed. “I know you're here! Where are you, Lucy?”

No answer.

I dropped back onto the grass.

My head was spinning. I felt so frightened and so completely alone.

I had no idea what to do next.

I
wandered around most of the day. I didn't even remember where I had been or what I had been thinking.

Did I eat any lunch or dinner? I didn't remember.

At dark I found myself back at the gray stone wall in the Fear Street woods. I don't know why I kept returning there. Maybe I figured Lucy might show up.

Of course that didn't happen.

I pressed against the wall and drifted into another deep, dreamless sleep.

At dawn I awoke with a face in my mind. A round,
pleasant face, a pale face surrounded by short curls of salt-and-pepper hair.

The face of Lucy's grandmother.

I sat up and stretched. My whole body ached from sleeping on the hard ground. My clothes felt damp from the morning dew.

Slowly I climbed to my feet and brushed myself off. A huge red ball of a sun still hung low over the trees. The air carried a morning coolness.

The smiling face of Lucy's grandmother lingered in my mind.

When Lucy wasn't getting along with her parents—which was a lot of the time—she always went to visit Grandma Carla. Lucy and her grandmother were very close.

Is Lucy finished following me around? I wondered. Now that she has murdered four people in my body, has she decided to make her escape?